Painful Reminder
by theverystuffoflife
Summary: From chapter 8: Could a shock CT scan discovery cost Fletch his life, and Zoe her career? (It had been three years since a colleague had died. They'd almost forgotten how hard it was. When tragedy strikes Holby ED again, no one is hit harder than Sam, especially when she receives news that will change her life forever.)
1. Time of Death

_**hello! I suppose I should introduce myself ;) I'm Beth, a somewhat new Casualty fan, I've been watching since June and managed to watch from series 25 onwards. you might know me on twitter as Bethstweeder. I thought I'd bite the bullet and upload my very first fanfic for casualty. This little idea started off as an idea for a one shot, but as I started writing, more and more ideas came into my head and I knew I had to make this a multichapter fic. I can't promise my updates will be very regular, I'm a 5th year drowning in CAs at school at the moment, but I'll try my best. Hope you enjoy!**_

"Time of death, 14:51."

I know now, I was in shock. Sometimes people deal with grief in weird ways, and in that moment, when those words nobody wanted to say rang out across resus, my immediate thought was how weird Zoe looked when she cried. She was our boss. When we were breaking down inside, she would always be the strong one, the one to pick us up off our feet and dust us down, and we could carry on. Now, she was crying. It was weird.

I watched her adjust her dress, crumpled from the effort of trying to save the person who now lay dead in front of us, and walk out of resus. I saw that mask she put on when she was approached by an elderly woman asking for directions. Her too-bright smile. Her kind, guiding hands, which minutes before had been covered in blood. I realise now I had never admired Zoe as much as I did in that moment.

I looked at the clock. 14:54. He'd been gone 3 minutes. I thought about my wife. When I looked at the body in front of me, just 30 years old, in some ways so young, about to get married to the love of his life, I thought of Natalie. How badly I had treated her. How this showed me how easily she could be taken away from me. She was carrying our fourth child and yet I'd barely acknowledged her since the moment I found out. Instead, I'd almost lost my job protecting Tess. Because I felt guilty.  
I suppose I was selfish really. Soon, I'd have to tell his fiancée that he was gone. Instead I was thinking about myself.

"Fletch!" a hand grabbed my arm, snapping me back into reality.  
"Hmm?"  
"He's gone Fletch, you need to let go." the voice whispered. I spent a second wondering what on earth this person was talking about, until I looked down. My fingers hadn't left the pulse point in his wrist, in desperate hope his heart would start beating again. It wouldn't.  
I looked up to find the source of the voice. It was Tess, her eyes swimming with tears.  
"Are you sure?", my voice wavering. It was a stupid question, of course he was gone. I couldn't admit it to myself, because then it would be real. That day could have been a dream, I could be asleep. Rare, living with Evie, but I could've been asleep. It was a sick dream of course, but it was one I could laugh about with the rest of the ED at the pub after a shift.  
"He's dead Fletch." Dead. The word made me feel sick.  
I took hold of his still warm hand, squeezing it gently. "Don't worry mate, I'll make sure she's okay now. Remember you still owe me that pint. I'll miss you...we all will."

"Come on, you need to go get cleaned up."  
I felt myself nodding, and Tess leading me out of resus. I didn't miss Zoe passing us though, leading the police into the room.  
"This is Dr Thomas Kent. He died 10 minutes ago."

15:15. 24 minutes. I was laying on a bed in cubicles, now dressed in scrubs and waiting on Tess to come back and stitch the wound on my head. It seemed so unfair. This cut would heal, it would barely leave a scar and yet just yards away, Tom lay dead. If anyone, I should have been the dead one. Tess interrupted my thoughts.  
"You could probably stitch this better than I could, you're the expert at stitching in this department right?"  
I met her banter with a weak smile, as she injected the wound with lidocaine. I know what she was trying to do, she was trying to make me feel better, or to forget for a moment, but I couldn't. Normally I was good at forgetting a patient if they died, putting their lost life into a little spot in the back of my head. This time, I couldn't forget.  
"Where's Sam?" I said, interrupting Tess' mindless chatter.  
"On her way in." Tess said, solemnly. "She doesn't know yet, just that there was an accident."  
"I need to tell her, when she comes in."  
"No no, you're injured, you should be admitted really. Zoe and Charlie will do it, it's okay"  
"I have to Tess, you don't understand. I made him a promise, I need to make sure she's okay. I was the last person to hear his voice, the last person he saw, she needs to hear it from me."  
"But Fletch-"  
"No Tess, I need to do this. Have Zoe in with me, whatever. I need to do this for him."  
"Ok, ok, I'll let Zoe and Charlie know. Try and rest for now" she squeezed my shoulder, and left the cubicle, leaving me with my thoughts.

15:31. 40 minutes.  
I was awoken from a restless sleep by the swooshing of the curtain, met by an extremely pale looking Zoe.  
"Alright? Sam's just arrived, she's in the relatives room."  
I nodded, and leapt to my feet a little too quickly, stumbling as the blood rushed to my feet, Zoe grabbing my arm.  
"Woah, steady Fletch. Are you sure you're okay to do this?"  
"I have to", pulling out of Zoe's grip. "Come on" I said, urgently.

15:33. 42 minutes.  
I stopped by the door of the relatives room, my hand shaking as it went to grab the handle. I turned and glanced at Zoe, who looked as sick as I felt. I gave her a warm smile, trying to show my gratitude for her staying with me. Then I pushed down on the handle and opened the door.  
My stomach dropped. I thought I was prepared for this, but I wasn't. I'd given bad news so many times before, but this was different. How do you tell a girl who you considered one of your closest friends that the man she was going to marry was dead, and that you saw him die? Heard his last words?  
She was so pale. It wasn't often that Sam showed much emotion. I remember the first time I saw her upset. She and Tom had had an argument. Her eyes full of tears. It made me want to cry and punch Tom at the same time. Funny now, considering in just a few days time, I was supposed to be Toms best man at their wedding.  
"Sam." My thoughts were broken into by Zoe, who walked across the room and sat on the chair across from Sam. I found my feet following, and joining Sam on the sofa.  
"As you know, Tom was involved in an accident earlier, and was seriously injured. He went into cardiac arrest in the ambulance and they performed CPR. He'd suffered a massive brain injury and trauma to his legs. He was very very-"  
"He's dead, isn't he?" Sam interrupted Zoe, shakily.  
I reached over and took her hand, forcing her to meet my gaze.  
"I'm sorry Sam, he didn't make it." I whispered.

I anticipated a wail. Normally when someone finds out their loved one is dead, they shriek, or sob, and then dissolve into tears. They ask to see them. I'm not sure why I expected a similar reaction from Sam. She was always calm, very rarely did she show any form of emotion. Apart from when she couldn't save a patient, but then she'd be angry.  
I looked up at her, peaceful tears pouring down her face and dripping off her jaw.  
"Why couldn't you save him? Why? Why him?" she muttered.  
I wasn't entirely sure who she was talking to, herself, me, Zoe.  
"He was very poorly Sam, there was no chance."  
This answer from Zoe obviously provoked a response from Sam, one of anger.  
"Isn't that what we do Zoe?!" she spat, "We save those people who are very poorly! You didn't try hard enough- y-you can't have, he shouldn't be dead!" her breathing was rapid, I was concerned she would have a panic attack. My eyes met Zoe's, she was obviously thinking the same.  
I tried to grab her wrists gently, "Sam, calm down sweetheart"  
Ripping her hands out of mine, she leapt to her feet, "Calm down?" she yelled between sobs, "Toms dead! My fiancé, he's dead. You didn't save him! Why didn't you save him? You saved Nicks fiancée when she was injured, she survived months! Is Tom not good enough for you? You think he drove Dylan out of Holby don't you? You're such a selfish bitch, Zoe!"  
I still have no idea why Zoe had been the target of Sam's anger. I'm not sure Zoe does either, or even Sam herself.  
I looked across at Zoe. She looked as terrified at this outburst as I expected, and tears were spilling down her cheeks.  
Sam had got herself into a massive state, and Zoe was in no state to sort it out. I had to do something.  
She picked up a glass that sat on the table.  
"Sam, put the glass down" I heard myself say.  
"No, n-n-no" she was muttering between short breaths. Her cheeks had lost even more colour, and I was worried she'd faint sooner rather than later.  
"Zoe," I whispered, "Can you go and get oxygen?"  
She nodded and left the room quickly.  
"Sam darling, you need to put the glass down and calm down."  
It was clear she wasn't there in her head, somewhat like myself when Zoe had declared Tom dead. That was nearly 60 minutes ago. An hour. The rattle of a trolley outside the door caught my attention briefly. It wasn't a typical patient trolley. A dead body lay there under the black cover. It was Tom.  
I stood up quickly, walking purposefully towards Sam. I grabbed her shoulders.  
"SAM" I said firmly. "You want to see Tom, don't you?"  
Something clicked inside of her. I felt her physically slump under my hands, the glass she was clutching dangerously smash on the floor. Slowly, her eyes, so full of pain, met mine. She nodded.  
"Okay. Let's go and sit down, yeah?"  
-


	2. Desperation

**_hi again! as promised, here is chapter 2 :) thankyou all SO much for the lovely reviews, I'm so glad you all enjoyed it, even if it's made a lot of you cry! In particular thankyou to i_catch_aliens for the worlds best review, and Beth L and Sophie for tweeting me too :) This chapter comes a little closer to getting some answers, but there's a lot to come. Enjoy :)_**

16:00. 1 hour and nine minutes.  
By the time Zoe re-entered the relatives room, I had managed to coax a very quiet, but somewhat calmer Sam back onto the sofa. I wanted nothing more than to comfort her with a hug but everything in her body language told me if I was to do that, she was very liable to lose it again. She'd curled herself into the very corner of the sofa, her head on her knees, breathing deeply and obviously trying to employ her own medical knowledge into preventing another panic attack. It was a such a typical Sam thing to do.

Dragging my eyes off the girl for a moment, I glanced up at Zoe, who had stumbled back into the relatives room looking much calmer herself, obviously taking the five minutes she got out of the emotionally charged room to compose herself, her arms full with an oxygen mask, cup of water and diazepam.  
"What is THAT for?" I mouthed, pointing at the medication, cautious not to grab Sam's attention "She's okay, she doesn't need drugging!"  
"I know, I was panicking. Sorry."  
I was furious with her, but now looking back, I completely understand Zoe's train of thought. She'd told me herself, when I'd questioned her about it not long after Tom's funeral. Doctors want to save everyone...they study medicine at university, after all. Medicine works wonders for all sorts of conditions, and sometimes they think to pop a pill will make everything better again. She assured me she knows it doesn't, but she said it had been one of the most stressful and traumatic days of her life, she wasn't thinking straight and desperately wanted to make Sam better. To stop it hurting. Grief, unfortunately, does not work like that.

"Zoe, you wouldn't have any paracetamol on you, would you? My head is pounding."  
Understandably, I'd been so caught up in trying to calm Sam down, I'd forgotten I myself had gained a head injury and lost a friend less than 3 hours ago. It felt like a lifetime now. I suppose it was. So much had changed in those 3 hours. 3 hours ago, we were feeling a bit peaky but full of spirits after the boozy weekend stag do I had organised and I could tell Tom had a list a million pages long of the stuff he needed to do for the wedding that week running through his head. We'd all arrived back in Holby early that morning, and Tom hadn't seen Sam for a few days. He was itching to see her before starting work, but I'd teased him a bit about it only being a few more hours, and how I didn't fancy being late for a hungover Zoe that morning with full knowledge Sam had held her hen-do that weekend also.

God, that is probably my biggest regret. If I had known that 3 hours later he'd be lying dead in the morgue, I'd have skipped work altogether so they could see each other. I still haven't told Sam I'd prevented Tom from seeing her the morning before the accident, I'm not sure I ever will. She doesn't deserve to share my guilt.

"Yeah, I'll nip out and get some. You really should be in for observation you know."  
"I'm aware, Tess has already informed me numerous times, thanks Zoe." I snapped.  
Zoe raised her eyebrows at me, but nevertheless left the room without saying another word.  
"That told her!" a small voice from the corner of the room made me jump. It was Sam. She was still as white as a sheet, her eyes swollen and face tear stained but she looked, and sounded more...like Sam. It sounds awful, the poor girl had found out she lost her fiancé only 30 minutes or so ago, but to see her 'back with us' immediately put me at ease. I sighed with relief and grinned, rubbing my temples.  
"Yeah, it certainly did. Consultants don't know anything, eh?"  
A small smile. It was the best thing I'd seen all day. I walked over to the sofa she was considerably less hidden in, sitting down and rubbing her shoulder comfortingly.  
"How are you feeling now darling?" I caught myself quickly, "Oh god, I'm sorry, what a stupid question."  
"Fletch, I'm not a lit fuse, I won't kill you if you say the wrong thing. You didn't anyway. I'm feeling much better, thanks."  
I looked her in the eye- "Really?"  
"Yes really...as well as I could be I suppose..." she trailed off, and I took her hand in the hope she didn't shrug it off. She didn't, instead squeezing it tightly. Sam isn't as tough as she makes out, and for that I'm glad.

Suddenly, her grip on my hand tightened dramatically, and I felt her arm stiffen, making me look up at her in alarm. Her terrified stare was fixed on the white medication bottle now lying abandoned on the coffee table. Well done Zoe.  
"Sam..," I said cautiously "what is it?"  
"T-th-the diazepam...is that for me? Oh god, oh god-" she muttered frantically.  
"No, no Sam, Zoe thought you might've needed it. She's a bit in shock herself, not thinking straight, try not to worry about it, don't panic"  
She wasn't listening though, and tears were steadily rolling down her face again, her breaths fast and sharp.  
"I h-have to g-go Fletch, I n-need to get out". With that she stood up shakily and burst through the doors of the relatives rooms into the chaotic midst of cubicles. Not the best place for a grieving relative to be.  
I tried to stop her, but it was useless. Another panic attack was inevitable and in the middle of the ED was not the place to have one. I felt myself stand up, swaying on my feet from the pain of my head and follow her through the doors, passing a bewildered Zoe.  
"Fletch, what the hells happened?!" she shouted after me  
"You!" I snapped back. Poor Zoe really got the stick that day. She was very clearly in shock herself, and understandably so, but no one seemed to really notice. I feel so guilty that I didn't.

16:25: 1 hour 34 minutes  
It had taken me a while to track down Sam, and with every minute that passed I got more and more worried that she was hidden in some corridor, struggling to breath. It was for that reason that the sound of hysterical sobbing echoing from the on call room had made me sigh with relief, yet at the same time it broke my heart. I don't think I'd ever heard someone sound so upset in all my life, and her cries still haunt me. I swallowed down my own tears, gained my composure and knocked loudly on the door.  
"Sam, it's me Fletch, can you open the door for me?"  
"G-go away Fletch" she managed to force out through her sobs.  
"No, I'm right here until you're ready. I just want to make sure you're okay."  
Another sob.  
"Come on Sam. Talk to me, don't hide in there by yourself! I can help, a little."  
She went silent suddenly, and I held my breath.  
A few minutes passed, and she undid the lock, cautiously opening the door.  
The pain in her eyes forced me to take a breath to keep holding her gaze.  
"Oh Sam, come here." She dropped her gaze then, and fell into my arms, finally accepting that comfort she'd needed the short time she'd known about Tom's death. I held her tight, realising I was unsure which one of us needed that hug more.

16:36: 1 hour 45 minutes  
After a hastily written text to Zoe reassuring her we were both okay, I'd managed to get Sam to sit next to me on the bed. Her head rested on my shoulder, a silent sign that I'd gained her trust.  
"Sam?"  
"Mmm?"  
I took a deep breath before replying. "Umm, the diazepam. Why did that make you so upset?" It could of been a simple reason, just an irrational reaction because of grief, but what she said really shocked me.  
"Tom", her voice wobbled when she said his name, like it hurt to say it.  
"I gave diazepam to him. When that baby almost died."  
I looked down the top of her head in shock. "What baby?"  
"There was a baby, he'd sent her home and then she was brought back in with meningitis. She nearly died. He blamed himself...it wasn't his fault though."  
"Why did you give him diazepam for that?"  
"He started having panic attacks, it was really upsetting him. I wanted to help him, somehow, so I prescribed him diazepam myself. It was the stupidest thing I've ever done, it almost cost us our relationship. Could've cost us our jobs too."  
"It didn't though, did it? I'm sure you did what you thought was best."  
She nodded, and moved her head in closer.  
"I was with him, you know"  
"Yeah, on the stag weekend"  
"N-no, I mean, when he died...I was there."  
"Y-you were?" she managed, through tears. I nodded, fully aware she couldn't see me.  
"What happened to him?"

"It was my fault. I think I killed him, Sam."

**massive cliffhanger there ;) I was going to include what happened in this chapter, but it turned out being much longer than I thought and it made more sense to make it into two. Please let me know what you think, I was a little dubious about the diazepam part but the lovely Evie assured me it was ok :)**


	3. Famous Last Words

**hi again :) Im sorry for the slight delay w/ this, I was planning to update last night but after that proposal I couldn't actually function. oh my goodness it was fabulous. I feel incredibly mean now for killing Tom off in this!**

**Thankyou for all the reviews again, they make me so happy :D **

**I'm not sure about this chapter, it's a bit 'bitty', but I hope you enjoy it anyway. It made me sad to write it, so I apologise in advance!**

"What are you talking about? Please Fletch, you can't say stuff like that and then go silent!" Considering I'd just dropped the massive bombshell on her that I'd apparently killed Tom, she was amazingly calm.  
Me, on the other hand, I was a wreck. The shock and exhaustion of the day had caught up on me, the adrenaline in my body finally evaporating. Waves of pain were washing over me again and again, Sam's desperate pleas just an echo.  
"Fletch? Are you alright? Fletch!"  
I saw hexagons, and then I wanted to throw up. An overwhelming sense of calm descended over me. I could sleep, the huge void of darkness was dragging me in and I wasn't stopping it. Sleep was all I wanted. I wasn't sure I could ever fall asleep again without seeing Toms agony-filled face engrained inside my eyelids.  
But now, I couldn't see it. It was calm, everything was forgotten.  
Then it went black.  
-

17:30: 2 hours 39 minutes  
It was cruel. The clock in resus was the very first thing I saw when I regained consciousness. A moment of utter confusion, and then the sharp pounding in my head returned and with it everything that had happened came crashing down on me like a tonne of bricks. God, a tonne of bricks. How ironic.  
A hand caressing my own. I squeezed it tightly and gingerly turned my head to face them, wincing.  
"Steady Fletch, you've been out a long time. I'll get some morphine, yeah?" It was Sam.  
"No no," my voice was weaker and more hoarse than I expected. "I'm okay."  
Far from the truth, but I just didn't want to be left alone with my thoughts. I was such a coward, seeking comfort from the woman whose fiancé I killed.  
"Natalie's on her way in. We didn't call her that long ago, we thought you'd fainted but then you didn't wake up for ages, we were worried...she had no idea...why didn't you tell her about the accident?"  
"I couldn't face her. A lot of stuff has happened Sam, stuff you can't be expected to deal with right now."  
"I thought you were dead. I thought I'd have to face losing you too."  
"I'm sorry."  
"Don't be silly, you couldn't exactly help fainting, could you?"  
"I scared you. I scared you before that, as well."  
Sam didn't reply, simply squeezing my hand tighter and meeting my gaze. She nodded.  
"I n-need to tell you what happened."  
"Please. I need to know you weren't to blame." She whispered.

-  
_"Do you not think Zoe would be a tiny bit lenient about lateness considering I'm getting married this week?"  
"I highly doubt it Tom...you've been playing the wedding card for weeks now. Besides, I bet she has a bloody massive hangover."  
"Zoe drunk? I'd like to see that. I must quiz Sam about it when she comes on shift."  
"You know, I think I should take a tally on the number of times you mention Sam today. Make a wager with the staff."  
Tom slapped me on the arm, removing his sunglasses, and walking off into the ED._

_It was strangely quiet for a Saturday. "The calm before the storm." Charlie said, and it couldn't be any more true.  
We found ourselves all congregated in cubicles and CDU- there wasn't a single patient in resus. Weird, but we made the most of the opportunity to nurse our hangovers a little more.  
As Charlie had predicted, the storm came pretty abruptly, in the form of the red trauma phone ringing.  
"Massive RTC, 5 minors and 3 majors. Need some blood, a doctor and a nurse at the scene. Mentioned a couple of paeds cases...you interested Tom?" Zoe said.  
"Yeah, why not. Come on Fletch." he grinned.  
"What?! No mate, no way. My heads pounding, I can't be dealing with your driving today."  
"Fine with me, you drive then."_

"You knew, didn't you?" Sam interrupted my spiel,  
"Knew what?"  
"Something was going to happen."  
"I had a weird feeling, something didn't feel right. Maybe it was the quiet in resus? But Zoe doesn't like feelings, I couldn't exactly say no...I really wish I had now though" my voice wavered.  
"Shh, you're ok" Sam soothed.

_"You ready?" As we sat in the rapid response car, I looked over at Tom, who unusually looked a little nervous.  
"Yeah, let's step on it yeah?"  
"You alright?"  
"Yeah, fine, go on."_

_As the sirens roared, I found myself accelerating more and more.  
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Tom smirked  
"Yeah, it's much more glamorous than my last day out with the paramedics, anyway."  
"You should've joined the heli-med team, they'd love you."  
I grinned, and sped up a little more. We weren't far off now._

_"Oh my god Fletch, watch out! There's a bridge! STOP!"_

"That's the last thing I remember. I crashed the car into the bridge." I whispered through tears.  
Sam's breaths were gasps. "Y..you don't remember what happened?"  
"No...it was just dark. I wish I remembered, why can't I remember?!" I growled, frustrated.

_The first thing I smelt when I regained consciousness was rubber. Burnt rubber. The smell made me want to vomit. My head was pounding and I could feel the trickle of blood running down my face.  
"Fletch?" Tom croaked. I turned my head to look at him.  
"No, no don't move your neck. You know, the thing we spend our lives lecturing RTC patients not to do."  
"What happened?"  
"What do you think? You crashed you plonker."  
"Are you ok? I'm so sorry."  
"I think so. My legs feel weird..."  
"Ok, don't move a muscle. My neck feels fine, I'll grab the radio okay?"  
"Yeah, be careful though, I'm sure someone's probably spotted the fact we are a bit wedged under a bridge mate..."  
I used the opportunity to glance down at Toms legs. My god. I'd seen some pretty horrific injuries during my time at Holby ED but I hadn't seen anything quite like it. There wasn't legs attached to his torso anymore, it was a mangled mess of flesh and bone, like he'd been blown up. How was he still conscious? There was no way that hadn't hit any major vessels. I couldn't stop myself from gasping at the sight.  
"What is it?" Tom said, urgently  
"Ah nothing, I've probably got a bit of whiplash. Keep still, yeah?" I lied, grabbing the radio.  
"RRV 324 to control."  
"Control to RRV 324. We've had reports of your RRV involved in an RTC, is this correct?"  
"Uh, yeah. Is anyone else here?" I said, shakily.  
"3006 is on it's way. Are you injured? Repeat, are you injured?"  
How was I going to get around this without panicking Tom?  
"Erm, both have minor head injuries," I lowered my voice, "the passenger has severe leg injuries. Can't tell if he's bleeding out, but he's conscious and responsive for now."_

_"Fletch I can hear, you know."  
"Oh my god, I'm sorry. Whatever you do don't look down."  
"I get the picture...at least it doesn't hurt, yet."  
"Do you want to phone Sam?"  
"No it's okay, we'll wait until we get out of here shall we? She'd only panic."_

"He always worried about you, you know?"  
Sam nodded through her floods of tears. I tightened my grip on her hand. I really didn't want to carry on, but if I didn't do it now, would I ever?

_"What about you, do you want to phone Natalie?"  
I sighed, "No, not a good idea."  
"Rough patch?" Tom said, knowingly.  
"Something like that."  
We lapsed into an awkward silence. Silence wasn't good, we had to keep each other awake, but what was there to talk about except that fact I almost killed us both?_

_"3006 to RRV 324"  
"RRV 324 to 3006, received. About time Dixie!"  
"What have you done now Fletcher? You are a royal idiot."  
"I get the picture. Can you get us out please?"  
A long silence. This meant bad news.  
"3006?"  
"Um Fletch...you might be there for a while. The bridge isn't safe, they need to secure it before we get anywhere near you. How's Tom holding up?"  
I glanced over at the man in question and noted his eyes were fluttering shut dangerously.  
"Not good, he's losing consciousness. Listen, I can walk, can I not get out and get some medical supplies to treat Tom with? I was the one who got us into this mess, after all."  
"No way, not going to happen Fletch. Do you not have your medi bags in the back?"  
"Yeah, I think so. We've got some blood in the back too, can we risk using that? I'm worried he's lost a lot of blood."  
"No way, we can't let you treat him with medication or needles. Get some dressings out of the medi bag and try and stop the bleeding a bit more."  
I threw the radio to the floor in frustration, and it smashed to pieces. It made sense, Dixie had to follow the rules and there was no way I, with a head injury and in shock, could insert an IV, but I desperately wanted to save his life. I was the one who nearly ended it, I crashed the bloody car.  
I looked behind me, wincing at the pain from the whiplash. Where the medi-bags sat, the back right hand side of the car, was even more mangled than the front where Tom sat, there was no way I could climb over the get the bags. I had two options left, neither one of them particularly good. The first, to sit and wait until the bridge was secure, and potentially risk Tom bleeding to death before they got to us. The second, to get out of the car, grab the medical supplies I needed and return, but risk having the bridge collapse onto both of us. My door was blocked by rubble, where some of the bridge had already collapsed. I realised we had a chance of it crushing us even if I didn't get out. I had to go._

If I hadn't been giddy from shock and pain, I probably wouldn't have moved. It was a completely stupid idea.  
One I would live to regret, for the rest of my life. I'd live to regret it, and Tom was lying there on a slab, dead. If the crash wasn't my fault, this certainly was.

_I opened the door of the car and leaped out as quickly as I could with my stiff legs.  
I was clear. The bridge was still standing, and I had seconds to grab the medical bag and get back into the car.  
"Fletch you are an idiot!" Dixie yelled to me.  
"You think I would sit there and let him die in front of me?!" I grabbed the bag and turned to run back towards the car._

_I felt a hand grab my shoulder, and push me to the floor. There was a huge roar, a noise louder than I had ever heard before. A cloud of dust engulfed us.  
The bridge had collapsed._

_"NO, NO, NO!" I screamed, shrugging out of the hands grip, and sprinting towards the car. If you could even call it a car anymore, it was more like a mangled heap of metal. And Toms mangled body was tangled within it.  
I climbed through the twisted metal, coughing from the dust pouring into my lungs.  
"Tom? Can you hear me mate?!" I yelled, panicked.  
I saw a limp, white hand hidden in the rubble. I grabbed it hurriedly, and squeezed it.  
"Tom, squeeze my hand if you can hear me."  
A response. Tears pricked in my eyes and I sniffed loudly.  
"H-holding hands-" a gasp, "and crying? Manly, Fletch." Tom. He was alive.  
"Oh my god Tom, I'm so sorry. You're gonna get out mate, don't worry."  
"L-like I said...y-you are a...plonker." He said, breathlessly.  
"I'll take that. Keep talking to me okay?"  
"H-head hurts, Fletch."  
"I know, here I'll try and move some of this so you can breathe a bit easier, yeah?"  
I moved some of the rubble, and jumped when I was met by his face. At least I thought it was his face, he was barely recognisable under the mask of congealed blood and dust. His eyes were what haunted me most. His pupils were the size of dinner plates, and it was clear he was in an enormous amount of pain. There was no way he was going to get out of this alive, and though I never told him this, he seemed to know.  
"Fletch?" he whispered, "I need you to do something."  
"Yeah of course, what is it?"  
"If I don't make it..."  
"No no no, you're going to be fine."  
"Shut up, we both know I won't be. If I die, I need you to look after Sam."  
"Of course, I love her almost as much as you do."  
"Please make sure she's okay, she isn't as strong as she makes out, you know."  
"Yeah." I squeezed his hand, and our tear stained eyes met.  
"This is not your fault, you know. Please don't ever blame yourself." He whispered.  
I just nodded. I couldn't promise him anything. It was my fault.  
"I need you to tell her something as well."  
"Yeah, anything."_

Sam had climbed onto the hospital bed I lay in in resus, and I held her as she shook with choked sobs.  
"Shhh" I soothed, stroking her hair, "I'm so sorry." I whispered.  
She stopped, and looked up at me, shaking her head furiously.  
"It's not your fault, you did what you thought was best. I'd do the same."  
"You know what he said to me?"

_"Tell her I loved her so, so much. I can't even think of a word to describe how much I loved her. I'll miss her so much, but tell her she needs to move on, find someone new, for me. Where ever I've gone now I've shuffled off to my mortal coil, I'll always watch over her and keep her safe. Cheesy, but I'm a cheesy bloke. And tell her...noli timere."_

_"What?" I managed, through tears.  
"She'll know what I mean." his words were increasingly breathless, I knew it wasn't long before he stopped breathing.  
"Fletch...so tired"  
"No, try and stay awake Tom, helps not far off now."  
Looking me directly in the eye, he gave me an amused half-smile, as if to say 'took them long enough', before taking one last breath. He was gone._

"Don't be afraid" Sam whispered.  
"What?"  
"Noli timere. It means 'don't be afraid'...he was always such a Latin geek."  
"Of course he was", I grinned.

She sighed, calmer than I'd seen her since the moment she found out he was dead.  
"Thank you Fletch, thank you so much." She rested her head back against my chest and we sat there comforted by each other's arms for what felt like hours.

**hope that's ok :) just a quick note, I got the 'noli timere' from Irish poet Seamus Heaney actually, who died last month. before he died, he sent that in a text to his wife and I thought it particularly fitting for this! Yes I have a bit of an obsession with Latin, don't judge ;) keep reviewing and let me know what you think!**


	4. Amor ad infinitum

**good evening :) sorry this is a little late, it took me much longer than expected to write this! This chapter is a little different in that it switches to Sam's POV later on. i hope this doesn't confuse any of you but I certainly thought it would turn out better if I did this. Theres a few bits and bobs I'm not sure about, so I'd love to know what you think. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, especially your bloody massive essays Lea ;) **

18:30: 3 hours 39 minutes

"Shouldn't you be the one in the bed?" Zoe said, bemused, as she walked into resus, noticing Sam curled up on the bed, fast asleep. Her face softened as she took note of her grey complexion and red, puffy eyes.  
"How's she doing?" she said, softly.  
"She's absolutely exhausted, and probably still in shock. She's so strong though."  
"That's Sam for you." I nodded, and then I noted Zoe's weird facial expression.  
"Zoe, what's wrong?"  
"The police, they want to take you in for questioning."  
I looked up at her in shock and shook my head frantically.  
"N-no...why?"  
"They wouldn't tell me anything, I'm sorry Fletch."  
My mind cast back suddenly to the breathalyser test I vaguely remember having taken at the scene of the accident. I realised I had absolutely no recollection of the policeman giving me the result. I'd just helped the paramedics and firemen drag Tom from the wreckage and was desperately trying to drown out Dixie's hopeless CPR on his dead body, knowing she was simply breaking ribs and crushing organs. I don't think I'd even questioned why said policeman needed me to take it, let alone function enough to wonder what the result was.  
Now though, I found myself doubting my own mind. Was I as sober as I thought I was? At no point did I think I was still drunk- I had a headache, I was hungover but I was certain I could function as normal. I would never put peoples lives at risk like that- or did I? What if this really was my fault? I was blaming myself already, without even knowing why and how I'd crashed, simply the fact I was the one who was driving, the one who left that car and caused the bridge to collapse was enough.  
I could leave Natalie without a husband, my children without a father, spending years in prison, missing the birth of my fourth child. More importantly, I was a murderer. Sam no longer had her fiancé. I was struggling to comprehend how Sam wasn't already blaming me for his death, if I was in her situation I definitely would have, but how would she cope knowing the accident could have been prevented and Tom could still be alive if I hadn't driven that car? And how could I live with myself knowing I'd driven whilst still drunk? A selfish thought, but a true one.

"Fletch?" Zoe said softly, interrupting my thoughts with a hand on my shoulder.  
I looked up at her as though I'd just realised she was there, and blinked furiously.  
"Where's Natalie?"  
"She's in the relatives room."  
"Does she know, about the police?"  
"Yeah, she's going to come with you, okay?"  
She noticed me glancing over at Sam's still sleeping form worriedly;  
"She'll be okay, I'll look after her, I promise."  
I nodded, standing shakily and wincing at the sharp pain of the whiplash in my neck, then slowly walking out of resus. Looking back through the glass in the doors as they slammed shut, I noticed Zoe had kicked up the chair I had been sitting in towards the bed and had gently taken Sam's hand. I knew in that moment Sam would be okay with Zoe, at least until she woke up anyway.

18:51: 4 hours  
_"Sam? Sam, wake up? We're going to be late for work you lazy bugger, come on!"  
I groaned, rolling over and grinning as I met Toms gaze.  
"Morning beautiful," he winked and then leant forward and kissed me on the forehead.  
"I thought you were on the stag weekend?" I smiled, before kissing him back.  
"I thought I'd come home and surprise you before I say goodbye" he replied, still grinning.  
"Goodbye? Why, where are you going?"  
"I'm just going. Bye Sam, look after yourself yeah? I love you so much."  
He was getting whiter and whiter by the second, his voice fading to a whisper.  
"Tom, where are you going? Tom?!"  
He was disappearing, fading away as if he had never even been there.  
"TOM!" I screamed hysterically, "Please don't leave me, don't leave me!"  
"Sam? Sam, it's okay!" his voice was whispering desperately, but he was just a shadow of himself.  
"No Tom, don't go! TOM!"_

"Sam, you're dreaming, wake up!"  
I was dreaming. I woke up sobbing painfully, and someone had hold of me in what they must of thought was a comforting embrace, but I felt trapped. It was only a dream.

Then I remembered, the dream was true. Tom had left me. He was dead.

My sobs halted suddenly and I brought my head up to look at the person who had probably saved me from another panic attack.  
"Z-zoe" I managed, trying desperately to stem the tears from pouring down my face, but the moment I met Zoe's sympathetic but obviously devastated gaze, I dissolved into tears again.  
"Shhh", she soothed as she pulled me into her arms again, rubbing my back like I was a child, "it's alright, you're alright". As soon as the words were out of her mouth, I felt her body tense up, and I instantly felt a pang of guilt for what I'd said to her earlier, and for the fact she felt she had to feel bad for what she was saying. I'd blamed her for not saving Toms life, yet I knew, even before Fletch had told me what had happened, that it was lost cause before Zoe even had a chance. There was no one else but Zoe I would rather have make the decision that nothing more could be done for Tom.

Sometime later, the uncharacteristic tears ceased and I brought my eyes up to meet Zoe's again, praying that I could keep the tears at bay. As I did, Zoe gave me a warm smile which instantly reassured me. I never knew something as simple as someone's expression could make me instantly relax, but it seemed the moment that Tom died, my personality had changed dramatically, and it scared me almost as much as the thought of coping without him.  
"I'm so sorry Zoe." I blurted out suddenly.  
Despite my reluctance to expand meaning she had no idea what I was apologising for, she shook her head furiously.  
"What have you got to be sorry for?"  
"I've been so horrible to you and all you've done is help me," I whispered, voice wavering.  
"Don't be silly Sam, this has probably been the hardest day of your life and all you've done is react, like a human would. Because you _are_ human Sam, no matter what you might think."  
My eyes filled with tears immediately;  
"Oh no, don't cry again" Zoe pleaded, and I smiled at her reassuringly.  
"I don't think I've ever cried so much in my life anyway." I joked.  
"I should be the one apologising, I was the one who left that diazepam on the table, I'm so sorry that it upset you, I have no idea why I did that, I think I was in shock."  
"It wasn't that you had it Zoe, it was the memories it brought back...but I'd rather not talk about those."  
She smiled and squeezed my hand understandingly. We lapsed into a comfortable silence. Well comfortable for Zoe, for me came the realisation yet again that Tom wasn't here with me. I remembered I hadn't seen him, I hadn't said goodbye. I wondered what he'd look like, was he cold now? Would it be horrific to look at him? I'd seen more horrendously injured people than most doctors in this hospital, but this was Tom. Tom who I loved, who was perfect.

Would Tom want me to see him dead?

When we lost patients in resus, particularly ones we had formed a bond with, it helped us to be productive, register their death, tidy them up, to see their body and to know their soul was somewhere else and they were gone. We'd done the same in the army, and whilst it was always horrific as a 23 year old to have to clean the dead bodies of fellow soldiers, it helped. I knew to have any form of closure from Toms death I had to say goodbye.

"Zoe?"  
"Yeah?"  
"I want to see him."  
Zoe looked up at me in alarm, and then realisation dawned on her face as she remembered who I meant.  
"Okay, are you sure?"  
"No, but I need to do this."

19:11: 4 hours 20 minutes  
I had only been into Holbys mortuary a handful of times in my time there, but as I walked down the corridor and the smell hit me, I instantly remembered how horrible it was. Death scares me. It might sound stupid, considering as a doctor I deal with death regularly and as an army medic I faced death myself, but as a doctor your job is to save lives and with that for me came the irrational fear of death and the notion that death was something we needed to avoid at all costs. There was little I was afraid of, but death was one of those things.  
I couldn't stop shivering. I wasn't sure if it was because it was absolutely freezing down there or the absolute terror I was feeling, but nevertheless I was incredibly grateful for the arm Zoe kept round my shoulders as we walked towards the room Tom lay in.  
"In here." Zoe said softly, stopping outside one of the rooms.  
"You ready?" I couldn't answer though, as before I could speak I felt myself sway and was overcome by the urge to throw up.  
"Woah steady, you ok Sam?" Zoe said worriedly as she grabbed my arms.  
"I-I don't know, I feel sick"  
"Okay, don't worry, it's probably just nerves. Look at me Sam, take nice deep breaths."  
I did as instructed and was relieved that the nausea quickly disappeared.  
"Are you sure you want to do this? You don't have to."  
"No no, I do, I want to." I said firmly.  
"Alright, do you want me to come in with you?"  
"No, I need to do this by myself."  
Zoe nodded knowingly and opened the door for me. Before I looked inside, I took a deep breath, looking directly into Zoe's eyes.  
"Please be here when I come out though."  
"Of course I will."

I'm not sure what I expected when I walked into that room, maybe something terrifying or that Tom would look horrifically disfigured, but the moment I saw him lying there that pit of nausea in my stomach instantly disappeared.  
Instead it was replaced by an ache. The ache of my heart shattering into tiny pieces. Tom really was gone.  
It seemed the cliché that dead people looked like they were sleeping couldn't be any less true. The life had been sucked out of him, left there a chalk white shell of a body. He wasn't there anymore, just his body remained. I think it was his colour, it was always the colour. He always had such wonderful rosy cheeks, even when he was exhausted after a night shift or ill. He always glowed. Now, nothing.  
His face had been cleaned and not a scratch lay on his face. I knew the real damage lay beneath the bandage wrapped around the back of his head, but I couldn't bear to think of that. I knew beneath the white sheet that lay up to his chest, his legs were disfigured and maimed and not Tom, but with the sheet and the bandage, he was perfect. He was perfect anyway.  
I know I must have stood there for ages taking in a thousand tiny details, like noticing the tiny scar he had on his left shoulder, and how I'd never noticed it before but had clearly been there a long time. The smile lines and frown lines in his face which reminded me this was my Tom, the one whose grin never failed to make me smile. That smile. How he ever got told off as a child, I have no idea.  
Eventually, I sat on the chair positioned at the side of the table. My arm went forward to take his hand, but I quickly jerked it back. Could I touch him? I wasn't sure I could bear to feel how freezing he was, to remind me he'd been dead for hours and I hadn't been there. He'd have wanted me to hold his hand, to feel his comfort even if he couldn't give it completely.  
Cautiously, I placed my hand over his. He was so cold, but he still felt like Tom. I took it properly, entwining my fingers with his, trying to warm them up with my own. I knew if I ever wanted to move on, even if I didn't want to now, I had to talk. Talking as if he was there in the room, hoping that he was, that he could hear me.

"You silly bugger, Thomas. We're getting married in a couple of days, and you've only gone and died on me...that's a funny way of showing me you were getting cold feet about it."  
I joked, trying desperately to lift the stifling atmosphere of death from the room. Then I remembered, this was Tom. And this was the last time I'd ever see him. I had to be honest- with him, with myself.

"Remember when I proposed Tom, and I reminded you how rubbish I was at soppy stuff, like proposals. You'd grinned at me, and still you said yes. I couldn't believe you wanted to marry me. I think I'd spent so long feeling inadequate, then you came along and I felt loved, wanted. Anyway, I'm going to go against the grain at being rubbish at soppy stuff and I'm going to tell you everything. It's the least you deserve.

I'm going to miss you so much you know." My voice shook, this was probably the most I'd ever said to anyone, let alone Tom, about my feelings. "This morning I woke up extra early, expecting a text from you like the last few days, this time telling me you were home. You have no idea how much those texts meant to me. When I didn't get one this morning, I felt a tiny pang of panic, and anger, but mostly disappointment."

"I couldn't wait to marry you this week. I know I told you I wasn't going to change my name when we got married, but I want you to know that there was nothing more I wanted than to become Mrs Kent. Your wife. There was so much we had to look forward to. I couldn't wait to travel the world with you, to buy a house together no matter the amount of times I moaned about you not clearing up after yourself. To have children. I wish we could have had a baby Tom. You would have made an incredible dad, I'm so sorry you didn't get the chance to become one.  
I'm sorry for giving you the diazepam. It will forever be one of the biggest regrets of my life. It nearly ruined us, it nearly ruined you, your job. I'm so sorry.

I'm sorry I never told you how much I love you. I hope you knew how much I love you, even if I didn't show it, but I really do love you. And no matter what happens in my life, I will never stop loving you.  
I hope you're up there somewhere, watching me make a fool of myself crying over a dead body. Don't ever leave me Tom, not properly."

I picked up his cold, limp hand and gently pressed a kiss to the top of it, closing my eyes to remember exactly what his touch felt like, so I never forgot.  
Standing up, I leant over his face, running my hand through his dust filled hair, matted with blood, inhaling the smell of his shampoo, and then placing one final kiss on his lips. The final kiss.

"Amor ad infinitum."

And I left that room without looking back.  
And Zoe was there, as she promised, with open arms.

_**continuing my Latin obsession, amor ad infinitum translates as "love without limits" or basically loving someone until the end of time :) next chapter yous find out what happens to fletch, sorry I didnt get round to that in this one!**_


	5. Blame and Guilt

**good evening! Sorry for the big wait for this, I know how annoying waiting for a chapter can be! I've been busy learning my French orals for my GCSE which was this morning so now that's over I can fully dedicate myself to this ;) I hope you understand the changing POVs in this. It's less sad but much more actiony than the other 4. Enjoy, thankyou for all the reviews! :D**

_20:15: 5 hours 24 minutes_

"Second interview with witness Adrian Fletcher, time of interview 20:15. Conducted by DCI Nettleship, lawyer William Henley present."

If the circumstances had been different, if I hadn't been so terrified and still battling an almost unbearable headache, I'd have found the situation I was currently in somewhat amusing. The dark interview room I was sat in, a police officer sat opposite me and a useless looking lawyer beside, reminded me of something you'd see in a film, when the burly police inspector would shine a blinding light into the eyes of a potential murderer, interrogating them for information.

The past hour or so had caused the already huge burden of guilt I was carrying to almost overwhelm me. Though the breathalyser I'd taken at the scene had come back as negative for being over the limit, it was close and I could tell by the expression on the police officers face how incredibly close I had come to facing a manslaughter charge.  
There was now a question of how the amount of alcohol in my system affected me. It may of not been illegal, but they clearly thought it might have been enough to cause the was then I realised even though I wasn't officially drink-driving, it still could have been my fault- and that could be realised in a court in front of a judge and I could find myself in prison for years.

It was fine until I'd left the ED, I could just about cope with the sympathetic glances constantly being shot in my direction as I walked through the department. Upon entering the relatives room I was greeted by Natalie enveloping me in an enormously comforting embrace, which brought tears to my eyes. I could see the devastation and pain on her face, realising for the first time that day how close I had come to losing my own life in the accident, and that terrified me- not for me, but for Nat. And with that came the guilt, not only did I cause Toms death, leaving Sam without him, I could have died myself. Even without dying, I had caused Natalie an incredible amount of stress which she didn't deserve. I didn't deserve her.

From then on the pace of the proceedings was incredibly fast and that only served to aggravate my pounding head. I found myself being bundled into the back of a waiting police car somewhat like a criminal. Though I wasn't formally arrested or put into handcuffs, I was dressed in nurses scrubs and being led out of the department by policemen, and the stares that got me were unbearable.  
In my whole life I hadn't even stepped foot inside a police station. I didn't have any form of criminal record, no warning, nothing- I didn't even have points on my driving licence. I was a nurse, a mechanic before that. I was a dad. It was surreal.  
The first interview conducted had been one of the hardest things I had ever done besides actually telling Sam that her fiancé was dead. I found myself struggling to recount everything that happened in the lead up to the crash and with that came frustration for both myself and the police officer. That time they were patient with me, treating me like a witness and never once pointing the finger of blame at me. The police officer had given me the results of the breathalyser solemnly and it was apparent they all found the situation just as upsetting as they had earlier on in the day at the scene of the accident.

Then I had to repeat the breathalyser on their machine, though I was told it was just protocol because I'd come so close, and definitely wouldn't be used as evidence since it had been so long since the accident. After that I was certain I'd be let home with the cause of the accident still being questioned, so I could see my wife and kids and check up on Sam who I remembered was still at the hospital with Zoe.

Little did I know my worst nightmare was about to play out.

* * *

_20:15: 5 hours 24 minutes_

I'm not sure if it was the fact I found being in the place Tom died somewhat comforting or the fact I was absolutely terrified of going home without him which meant I was extremely reluctant to leave the ED, but either way I was still there after over 4 hours.

After the shock of seeing Toms body threatened to cause a faint in the corridor of the morgue, Zoe had managed to coax me into the ED staff room and practically forced a cup of sugary tea down my neck.  
She had sat in there with me for a good half an hour but after a while of Zoe trying to make conversation obviously to take my mind off what had happened, I had feigned sleep in the hope she'd leave me with my thoughts. She did, with the claim she was "going to check everyone was doing their job properly."

I couldn't get the picture of Toms chalk white face out of my head, his blue lips, how cold he was. I had began to question if going to see his body was a bad idea but I shook that idea as quickly out of my mind as it entered. Tom would have wanted me to say goodbye and I knew going in there and saying everything I had ever wanted to say to him in the hope he heard was extremely therapeutic and very important.

I was roused from my doze by the buzzing of my mobile, something which hadn't been unusual since the news of Tom death started spreading rapidly. Though his name hadn't officially been released to the press because investigations were still ongoing, somehow a number of news websites had found out and "HORROR BRIDGE COLLAPSE KILLS ED DOCTOR" was plastered across many of them.

Though a police officer had already been sent to Tom's parents house to inform them of his death and they'd phoned me to tell me they were on their way down with Toms sister, I had been in too much shock to even think about calling my own parents. They found out through the evening news report and the resulting phone call had been horrific. Since then I'd been bombarded by texts from friends asking if it was true, though I couldn't bring myself to reply to any of them, in the hope that if I ignored it for a while they'd leave me alone.  
Rolling off the sofa and reaching for the phone expecting another text from a nosy friend, I was shocked to see it was a phone call from Fletch. I'd been told by Zoe his wife had taken him home shortly after I'd fallen asleep, so why was he calling me now? Stifling a yawn, I pressed answer.

"Fletch?" I croaked, shocked at how hoarse my voice was, obviously from crying.  
"Sam, it's Natalie."  
"Natalie? Are you alright?"  
"Um Sam, we're at the police station, Fletch is being taken in for interviews again."  
"Again? What do you mean, Zoe told me you'd gone home?"  
"No, we went straight to the police station." Her voice wavered, obviously distressed which sent panic coarsing through my veins. "Th-they think it might be his fault."  
"Wh-what?" I simply whispered, tears now pouring down my face.

It didn't add up, there was no way they had any proof that it was Fletch's fault that the accident occurred. He couldn't remember what happened, that was obvious to me. The only other person in the car was now dead. How did they know? He was already blaming himself for what happened, for crashing and then for getting out of the car but it seemed I was the only one who didn't think it was fault despite the fact I should probably be the one most likely to want to point the finger at someone.

Some muffled sounds and then; "I'm sorry Sam, I've got to go. I'll call you back when I know more ok?" she said simply, and then hung up.

I let the phone drop to floor in shock and I was so absorbed in my grief that the sound of the staff room door opening made me jump violently.  
"Sorry, are you alright?" Zoe apologised urgently as she walked into the room.

"Why didn't you tell me Fletch was at the police station?" I snapped as she sat down on the sofa beside me.

She looked puzzled for a second, and then sighed.  
"I didn't want to panic you, you woke up in such a state...and I didn't know it was going to be this serious."

"You've panicked me now Zoe, I just got a call from Fletch's wife saying the police think it was his fault Tom died!"  
I was met by silence, and the growing pit of nerves at the bottom of my stomach make me want to throw up.

"Zoe?" I whispered. "Please tell me she's wrong."

Zoe looked up and met my gaze, shaking her head.  
"There's a police officer here who wants to talk to you...I'm so sorry Sam."

* * *

"Mr Fletcher, you told us you cannot remember the events immediately preceding the crash this afternoon, am I correct?"  
I simply nodded, struggling to raise my throbbing head up to meet the police inspectors accusing stare. I knew it would probably make me look more guilty but I was sure if I did I would collapse.  
"For the recording Mr Fletcher."  
"Y-yes, correct." I managed.  
"So you have no idea how the crash occurred?"  
"No, I just remember waking up, after."  
"Hmm, a bit strange don't you think Mr Fletcher? What do you think might have caused the accident then?"  
"I don't know."  
"Mr Fletcher, what did you do the night before the accident?"  
"I-it was the last night of Tom's stag do, w-we weren't going to drink anything because our flight back was the next morning. But we went to the pub, I ended up having quite a lot to drink. We got back to the hotel room at 1am, our flight back was 5am so I didn't get much sleep there. Then we caught the flight back and got home about 7:30am our time."  
"What time did you start work?"  
"11:30am. We were a bit late."  
"And how were you and Mr Kent feeling?"  
"I had a bit of a headache, quite hungover. I definitely didn't feel drunk though, I wouldn't have come to work if I did. Tom seemed fine, better than me, keen to see his fiancée"  
"So why didn't Mr Kent drive the response vehicle if he seemed less hungover than you?"  
"I don't know. I offered, I thought I could drive fine."  
"But clearly you couldn't Mr Fletcher."  
I fell silent, shaking my head in defeat and then wincing as it aggravated my headache.  
"We've received a number of witness reports stating that your vehicle was driving particularly fast and recklessly, do you remember that?"  
I shook my head furiously, "I never once went above that speed limit, I'm sure of it."  
"Apparently you sped up immediately prior to crash and then crashed into the bridge. You do understand the implications of lying to us, don't you Mr Fletcher?"  
"I'm not lying, I was driving safely. We were on our way to a massive RTC with blood in a cool bag, we were just being quick."  
"Interview aborted, time 20:30"  
He then turned to me again and said calmly, "You understand why we are suspicious don't you?"  
I nodded, closing my eyes as I tried to block out the light which was simply making my head worse.  
"I'll be back soon." He said and then left swiftly, leaving me with the predictably useless lawyer.

* * *

_20:40: 5 hours 39 minutes_

I'd kept the poor police officer waiting a good twenty minutes before she could come in and talk to me. The exhaustion and stress was catching up on me and I found myself close to yet another panic attack after receiving the news and again I was being calmed down by Zoe as she rubbed my back affectionately and coached me through my breathing. Despite being somewhat irritated at her for not telling me that Fletch was at the police station, I was incredibly grateful for her support and understood why she wanted to protect me as I was frequently getting very upset.

It was scaring me already how different I'd become. I had rarely even cried in front of Tom before he died and I certainly wouldn't have dreamed of crying in front of Zoe. She might have been a friend but more importantly she was my boss and I'd always maintained that professional distance. Now though, I was an emotional wreck and on the edge of a panic attack almost constantly. I felt vulnerable and embarrassed, and the worst thing was Tom wasn't here to reassure me everything would be fine like he used to.  
I had no idea how I was going to cope without him being there, because I may have never admitted it but I needed him.

"Miss Nicholls, I'm PC Finlay," my thoughts were interrupted by the sugary sweet voice of a policewoman walking into the staffroom. My head jolted up immediately and I gave her a polite, if not forced, smile.  
"Sam." I said, a little too bluntly.  
"Sam, I just wanted to say I'm very sorry for your loss and I'm going to try to make this is least difficult as I can."  
I nodded, not quite taking in what she was saying. I suppose I was going to have to get used to those famous for words, 'sorry for your loss' for a while but I hated them, so meaningless and obvious.  
"Basically, we've had some concerns about the circumstances surrounding your fiancé Tom's death. Mr Fletcher, who was involved in the accident and I understand to be a friend of yours was driving despite consuming a large amount of alcohol the night before."  
"But he said he was sober this morning." I interrupted quietly, and the police officer nodded.  
"The breathalyser showed he was just under the limit, and only just, so he won't be facing a charge for driving whilst drunk. However, we've had witness statements that he was driving very recklessly before the accident and that immediately prior to the crash he sped up and appeared to lose control of the car. We aren't entirely sure why this is yet, but it was dangerous and illegal and we're going to arrest him for causing death by dangerous driving for now for further questioning."  
I looked up in alarm. "Th-they can't, it wasn't his fault he told me he doesn't remember." I murmured.  
"Like I said Sam, we need to do further questioning and that's why he's been arrested. There's also something else."

With that statement, Zoe, who had been sitting with her head down throughout the whole conversation reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder, rubbing it gently. This wasn't good.  
"Because the cause of Toms death was very sudden and unclear, we need to carry out a post-mortem examination in case this goes to inquest or trial."

The thought of them cutting up Tom's body was almost too much for me and I started retching, trying desperately not to be sick.  
"No, no, you can't do that to him" I whispered.  
"It's very important we do Sam, you want to find out what happened to Tom don't you?"  
"I'm not sure I do anymore."

* * *

_20:40: 5 hours 39 minutes_

The police inspector again entering the interview room with two police officers jolted me awake from my painful doze over the desk.  
"Mr Fletcher, we have concerns about how the amount of alcohol you consumed the night before the accident affected you and how recklessly you drove that response vehicle when you clearly were not in a position to do so. Adrian Fletcher, we are arresting you on suspicion of causing death by dangerous driving. You do not have to say anything but anything you do say can and will be held against you."


	6. Unfamiliar Territory

**_evening :) I've spent all weekend promising Lea I'd have this updated sometime this weekend, and here I am at 10pm on the sunday. Nevermind ;) if I was reading this fic I'd be incredibly frustrated at the lack of answers at the moment, but bear with me, there's so much to come! Please keep reviewing, it makes me very happy :)_**

_Day Two: 08:23_

Over the few days prior to Toms death, I'd become reluctantly accustomed to waking up alone again. Before I'd been with him, I'd spent the majority of my life sleeping in a bed by myself, even when I was married to Dylan near the end we'd ended up sleeping in separate beds because he couldn't cope with my post-Afghan nightmares. Because of this, I thought I'd be able to cope waking up without Toms arms around me when he was away. The truth was I couldn't, and the first two nights I found myself going to bed as late as I could and waking up extremely early and terrified. It got better though, and even though I found it somewhat scary, over those few days he was away I'd grown used to not waking up with him next to me. I'd even enjoyed having the whole bed to myself.

It was that same calmness I felt upon waking which made it heartbreakingly surreal when I woke up the morning after he died. My immediate thought was of pride that I hadn't woken up shaking from yet another nightmare Tom wasn't there to comfort me from, and then instinctively I rolled over to pick up my phone from the pillow next to me to check for a good morning text from Tom, eyes still closed. Instead I felt cold sheets, and opening my eyes and seeing the room I was in immediately caused the pit of emptiness I had felt that whole previous day to return. I wasn't in my own bed, this was Zoe's house. And Tom was dead. Fletch was going down for killing him.

I found myself struggling to remember the events of the previous night which led to me sleeping in Zoe's spare room, but when it came back to me it made perfect sense that Zoe wasn't going to leave me to go home by myself. Despite never having been in my boss' house in the whole time I had been in Holby, I was incredibly grateful to be waking up in a strange bed. The pain if I had woken up in my own bed without Tom that morning would have been even more unbearable.

With the realisation of my surroundings I was left completely stunned by Zoe's apparent change in personality towards me that previous day. I don't think I'd ever even hugged her before Tom died, and here she was being an unwavering tower of support for me when I was most vulnerable. Just a year before it was clear as day that neither of us even liked each other very much. This show of affection might have been through pity, but I didn't care.

Tom might have left me, but it was clear he never planned on leaving me completely alone. He'd already made sure I had people there for me.

And there I was, at 8am, in floods of tears already. I was sick of crying, yet it was all I could do. I'd joked before Tom died that I never cried because if I started I'd never stop, and it seemed that was true. The pain never ended.  
I remembered what the policewoman had said to me last night. God, I couldn't even remember her name now, it was all a blur but apart from the crushing news of Fletch's arrest there was one word that stuck out and rang in my ears.

Post-mortem.

The situation stunned me enough already, I couldn't quite understand how Fletch was being blamed for Toms death, so to be told they were going to slice Toms body to work it out was agony. Even if it showed that Fletch had been at fault, though I couldn't see how it would, I didn't care. I didn't want justice in that moment. Justice wasn't going to bring me Tom back. Everything about the situation was painful, they were going to cut up and mess around with Tom instead of leaving him to rest in peace, Natalie was going to have to explain to their kids why daddy wasn't there, why his face was plastered over the fronts of newspapers. They'd spend their whole lives being the kids whose daddy killed someone. Their new baby would grow up without it's dad. That thought made me feel sick.

I didn't even care if Fletch had deliberately crashed that car and killed Tom. I just wanted Tom to be left alone, to rest and to not put anyone else through agony, especially not children.

Eventually my tears dried up, falsely reassuring me I couldn't cry anymore and I decided it'd be a good idea to at least make an appearance in Zoe's house. Actively avoiding the mirror for fear of what I currently looked like, I eventually found my way down the vaguely reminiscent hallway into the kitchen to be confronted by an extremely stressed and tired looking Zoe, hunched over what looked like the morning newspaper. I felt even more guilty when I realised she was shaking and felt the need to make my presence known.

"Zoe?" I managed, my voice more hoarse than I'd expected.

She jumped and quickly looked up, sweeping her hands over her face briskly. She was crying, this wasn't good.

"Sam, didn't see you there! Did you sleep okay?" she smiled weakly, clearly trying to hide how upset she was.

"Yeah," I smiled half-heartedly, "so much so I had no idea where I was when I woke up. It was a shock when I realised.", gesturing to what I assumed was a tear stained face. "You?"

"I've had better." she sighed, pointing at the chair opposite her, and I sat down.

"Look, I'm so sorry, I don't nor-"

"Shh Sam, I wasn't going to let you sleep in the ED on call room was I? I'm not that heartless. You need people now. It's fine."

I nodded, inhaling deeply to stem yet another flow of tears from falling as I suddenly remembered how incredibly distressed I had been after Toms parents and sister had left the hospital to go to a hotel, struggling to calm myself down and wishing I could just sleep for the rest of my life without Tom. I'd insisted to Zoe that I was fine in the ED, I couldn't bear to go home yet. It had been hard enough seeing Tom's younger sister- though Niamh and Tom weren't technically related and there were nearly 15 years between them, their mannerisms were identical, bringing back so many memories. I knew if I had gone back to the flat we shared it would be even harder.

It had dissolved into somewhat of a shouting match between Zoe and I, most of which I couldn't remember but ended in a spectacular breakdown on my part in the on call room and then me finally relenting and going home with Zoe. It was so out of character to be so vulnerable and emotional, it terrified me. Well, I thought it was out of character, but I had never been in this situation before, I'd been too young to remember my dad and grandparents dying, so maybe I was just more emotional than I thought I was. I'd just got good at bottling stuff up, putting up walls. It was an army trait which continued long after I left.

Successfully biting back the tears, I noticed Zoe staring at the newspaper again, worriedly.  
"Zoe, what is it?"  
"The bloody press," she whispered bitterly, "why don't they just leave you alone?"  
She handed me the newspaper, and I was confronted by mine and Toms faces smiling back at me. The sight of his face again, something I hadn't seen since I saw his body the previous afternoon shocked me, and I felt sick as I read the headline.

_"TRAGIC CHILDREN'S DOCTOR JUST DAYS FROM BEING MARRIED"_ it read. The fact Tom had been described as 'tragic' was enough to leave me fuming, but as I read on it got worse.  
_"The Holby ED doctor killed yesterday in what is being described as a 'suspicious' car accident by police, has been described as 'a fantastic doctor, calm and always smiling' by friends. Dr Thomas Kent, 30, was to marry his 'beloved' fiancée Dr Samantha Nicholls, 28, this week. Police have arrested a 37 year old man, believed to have been driving the emergency response vehicle Thomas was in. Circumstances surrounding the crash are still unknown, and it is thought a postmortem will take place today."_

I looked up at Zoe, angry tears spilling down my cheeks.  
"How do they know all this stuff?! I've said nothing, I've said nothing to them." I growled, slamming the paper on the table in frustration.  
"I don't know." she said simply, clearly as angry as I was.  
"What kind of friend talks to the press, telling them his life story? And you know the staff will put two and two together and work out that Fletch has been arrested!"  
"We'll find out, I'll call the press. We could get a lawyer to stop anything else being released."  
"There's no point." I sighed, resting my head down on the table.  
"How did they know they'd arrested someone?" I said suddenly, my voice muffled by the wood.  
"I'm not sure Sam, I've only just seen this myself. Maybe the police told them?"  
"I knew the police were idiots." I sniffed, and then felt Zoe's hand take mine comfortingly, my head still resting on the table. I didn't know how much more I could take.

* * *

_Day 1: 10:15am_

Time went much faster than I thought it would being cooped up in a tiny cell. I supposed that this was a good thing. If...or when I was locked up for years, I hoped time would pass just as fast.

This had turned out to be the most surreal thing I could imagine ever happening to anyone. Just 24 hours before, I'd been in the airport eating the greasiest breakfast I could find in an attempt to sort out my hangover before the shift, something which made Tom and I nearly 30 minutes late for work. My biggest concern then was the fact I was going to get an walloping by Zoe for being late, again. Little did I know, a day later I'd be in a police cell under arrest for killing the very person who had received the lecture alongside me. It was crazy.

The past fourteen hours or so I had been dragged out of my restless slumber on the hard cell bench numerous times for questioning, each time a different tactic being deployed on me, obviously trying to get me to confess. Confess to what exactly, I wasn't sure. I still couldn't remember what had happened, which was concerning me slightly, as well as the fact my head hadn't stopped hurting, but I was sure it was still the shock. A couple of times, around the early hours of the morning when I'd spent ages begging the most sympathetic officer I could find to let me call my wife and then him refusing, I had considered confessing to being drunk or driving recklessly. But I knew they'd see straight through my lies eventually and then I'd be done for perverting the court of justice anyway. Either way, they were determined they were going to lock me up.

My thoughts rarely left Sam. I had no idea where the girl was, whether Zoe had let her go home by herself, if she'd told her where I was. If she knew about my arrest, or the postmortem I'd just been told had taken place, and the results were about to come in. Was she angry at me? She deserved to be. I just felt incredibly guilty, knowing it was ultimately all my fault she was in this position.

* * *

_Day 1: 11:15_

After a short run and a shower in which I'd had a chance to release some of the anger that had been building up inside of me because of the press, I was feeling somewhat more human. When I walked into Zoe's living room, I noticed the woman herself staring at the house phone, frowning.

"Someone call?"

She jumped again, clearly not used to having someone else in the house with her.  
"Yeah, um Sam, take a seat."

Her tone of voice immediately reminded me about the postmortem which I'd forgotten about in the mad rush after the newspaper situation. The return of the nausea which had crept up on me frequently the last day or so was so sudden it was scary.

"The post mortem." I whispered knowingly.

Zoe nodded solemnly, clearing her throat nervously.

"What is it Zoe?"

"Well DCI Nettleship phoned, the officer in charge of Toms case, she said she would have come out to talk to you about the results but she's a bit caught up, so she told me over the phone." Her tone was strange, like nothing I had ever heard come out of her mouth. Timid, afraid and somewhat devastated, like it was bad news.

"Though the post-mortem showed there was a significant brain injury, which was what we thought was what killed Tom, the main cause of death wasn't that...it was blood loss from the leg trauma."

"That makes sense, Fletch said Tom was talking to him before he died, after the head injury occurred. I don't get it Zoe?"

"Well, because the head injury occurred due to the bridge collapsing, that was pretty much out of Fletch's control, even if he crashed the car into it. However, because the cause of death was blood loss from the leg trauma which Fletch said occurred because of the initial accident, it means that him crashing the car even more directly led to Toms death."

"So, the crash definitely caused his death..."

"Yeah. And um, now they've questioned Fletch, they're going to charge him with causing death by dangerous driving."

"He killed Tom?" I could only just manage to whisper.

Zoe simply nodded.  
I'd gone all this time convinced that what happened had been a tragic accident, and Fletch wasn't at all to blame, but now the police were going to charge him, they must have had good reason. Did he lie to me when I lay there just hours after Toms death, raw with grief? Who knows how much of what he told me was true.

"Zoe? I need to see him, to find out the truth."


	7. All Those Lies

**_well, long time no see! 2 weeks. I am so sorry, it's been the busiest couple of weeks I've had in a while and quite the roller coaster of emotions! I am here now though, and after struggling over this chapter for so long I have finally finished ;) let me know what you think :) hopefully the next chapter should be pretty swift!_**

_Day 2: 10:30am_

The only remaining lucid and sensible part of my brain in the days immediately following Tom's death reminded me of a lecture I'd attended when I was in university. "The stages of grief", I remembered the name as. I hadn't paid much attention, I'd had the intention to join the army upon leaving medical school from the age of 16 and I didn't think I'd need to know this information about talking to the grieving relatives of dead soldiers I'd never meet. I was determined to excel, so I turned up, but I didn't find it particularly interesting or important.

Now though, the words rang in my ears. Words which attempted to describe the feelings of those experiencing an intense amount of grief. Devastation. Acceptance. _Anger. _  
Anger. Somewhere in my head I knew this anger I felt at Fletch lying to me, a claim which was still unfounded, was irrational. It was stupid. Fletch had made a mistake. Even if he'd been driving recklessly, it was still an accident. He shouldn't be blamed, he didn't set out that day to kill my fiancé.  
The rest of my brain was telling me to be fuming at him, to hate him. He killed a man who had his whole life ahead of him. With me. Why did he get to survive and Tom had to die?  
And hate him was what I did.

I could tell Zoe was reluctant to let me see Fletch from the moment I'd told her I wanted to, my eyes obviously flickering with anger and hurt. But she obliged. I'm not sure why, whether it was sympathy, pity or fear of what I would do if she wouldn't. I wasn't in the right frame of mind, with good reason of course, very quiet but capable of becoming hysterical very quickly. She'd seen that more than a few times the night Tom died.

I'm still surprised the police officers let me see him, it was probably completely against protocol. Anything could have happened, the partner of the dead man, raw with grief and the man charged with killing him in a room together. It was insane.

I found myself shaking with nerves before I'd even left Zoe's house, my face white with fear and nausea. It was when I forced Zoe to pull over to the side of the road so I could vomit that I really wondered if I was up to this. It was obvious Zoe shared the same thoughts, getting out of the car to stand beside me and rubbing my back comfortingly and then going forward to pull me into a hug when I'd finished. When I shrugged her off, she looked at me, her face etched with a mixture of confusion and hurt.

"D-don't Zoe, I'll start crying." I managed, smiling weakly.  
"You know you don't have to do this, right?" she replied, frowning.  
"I do," I sighed, "I can't spend years and years like this."  
It was true, I was someone who struggled to find closure unless I had all the answers, and I knew I wouldn't rest easy and really accept what had happened until I knew exactly what caused the accident. One day, as much as I didn't want to now, I had to move on. But I couldn't let Tom rest in peace yet, I couldn't bury him until I knew everything.

The moment Zoe slowed the car to turn into the police station car park, the knot of nausea in my stomach tripled, the waves of sickness washing over me and the ache causing me to outwardly gasp and clasp my hands to my abdomen. Zoe looked in my direction in alarm, hastily parking the car and turning to study me again.  
"Oh my god Sam, you're as white as a sheet. Are you going to be sick again?"  
I couldn't reply for fear I would throw up over Zoe's leather upholstery, instead I attempted to frown in hope she knew I meant I wouldn't, and concentrated on taking as deep breaths as my stomach would let me.  
After a few minutes the nausea passed and I looked up from my feet to meet Zoe's gaze, laced with concern and worry.  
"I'm not sure this nausea is normal Sam..." she started before I cut her off abruptly.  
"It's just nerves, I've always been the same but this is just a little worse." I was unsure if I even believed my own theory and Zoe's raised eyebrows suggested she definitely didn't but she dropped the subject quickly.  
"Are you ready?" she smiled weakly and reached over to squeeze my hand quickly.  
"Yeah, let's get this over with." I replied, and then opened the car door and stepped out, walking towards the police station without even a backwards glance. I could do this.

_Day 2: 10:45am_

The moment I heard the familiar click in the lock of my cell I jumped up from the hard bench I was attempting to sleep on, in desperate hope it would be a police officer or lawyer or whoever it was who was coming to discuss bail conditions with me. Getting up so quickly was a mistake as the moment I stood up it was if a million knives were thrown at my head, my vision blurring instantly and causing me to stumble back onto the bench. My head had been almost unbearably painful since the moment it woke me up at around 4am and it would have been a lie to say the symptoms which were increasing in number and severity all the time didn't terrify me. It occurred to me that I'd had an almost constant headache since the crash and even though I assumed the CT scan Zoe had done after I collapsed was clear, things could come up suddenly and the disturbed vision and dizziness and occasionally nausea was new, as well as the terrifying ice pick pain. I'd asked for paracetamol but it hadn't even touched the pain.

The only time I was pain free was when I was asleep and even that was rare, so I was trying to make up for the 4am start. I'd been to court that morning, something which was incredibly scary, even though it was simply to have the charges read out to me and to confirm my name and address. I had visions of myself stood up in front of the magistrates in a few months time, being found guilty by the jury and sentenced to years behind bars. Sam's devastated and hurt stare being the last thing I saw before I was taken away without getting to say goodbye to my children. It was something I'd dreamt about the last two nights I'd spent in custody but being in an actual court room made it even more real.

The police officer, unusually one I didn't recognise, saw me collapse back onto the bench and yet simply raised his eyebrows at me in disgust and held the cell door open, pushing me out.  
"Mr Fletcher, you've got someone to see you."  
"Who?" I replied, assuming it was the lawyer or perhaps Nat, despite not hearing anything from her since I was first arrested.  
"I don't know do I, I wasn't told. Don't know anything about you apart from why you're here mate." He snapped, clearly fed up of answering stupid questions for the day.  
I just nodded and let him lead me down the still unfamiliar maze of corridors.

When I walked into the room, she was sat on the chair with her back to me, but the long dark blonde hair and small frame was all I needed to work out who it was.  
Sam. She was the last person I was expecting to see and it occurred to me that I had no idea what I'd say to her. I hadn't seen her since I left her sleeping in the hospital, and so much had happened since then. I was arrested, there was the post mortem, I was charged and I'd been to court, and that was only the stuff I knew about. She looked smaller than normal sat in the chair, like she just hadn't eaten for the past 3 days- and she probably hadn't. I had no idea where she was staying, if she was alone at night, how she was coping.

I was her best friend, I should have been the one looking after her through this but instead I was sat in a police cell, and I'd caused her all this pain.

"Sam?" She jumped, clearly so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't heard me enter the room. She turned to face me, clearly as nervous as I was to see her.  
Just her face made me want to cry, hug her and lock myself in prison for the rest of my life all at the same time. The pain etched in her eyes was real, her face whiter than I thought skin could go except for the ring of grey around each eye where she had cried a river of tears. It had been hard seeing her face when I first told her Tom was dead, but that was strong, agonising, new grief. Now, this was real grief, her expression showing loneliness, reluctant acceptance and pain. Time didn't heal anything, it just made everything real.  
Her eyes seemed to flicker with anger, her head full of questions and yet all she could manage was a whispered "hello".

* * *

As Fletch walked round the table towards his chair, I couldn't help but feel a rush of relief and found the knot of nausea in my stomach had loosened a little. I'd known him 18 months and yet the moment I found out he'd been charged, a different picture of him built up in my mind. In my head he was a monster, a terrifying murderer and someone I was supposed to be scared of. He'd killed my fiancé and therefore he had turned into this horrible, evil person. But he wasn't, he just looked like Fletch. He looked tired and had new creases in his forehead where his face was obviously permanently set into a frown, but his eyes were still kind and reassuring yet devastated and guilty. My anger towards him dissipated a little and instead I just wanted answers.

I snatched my hand away a little too quickly when he reached forward to take it, and looked up at him guiltily.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, to which he shook his head furiously.

"No don't be sorry, that was stupid. I'm sorry, I should be helping you and yet I'm stuck in here."

"Fletch, I need to know the truth." I interrupted, not willing to hear his guilt trip.

"What do you mean, you know everything!" He replied, confusion gracing his features.

"Don't act so stupid Fletch," I hissed, despite refusing to get agitated before I entered the room, "why on earth would they charge you for causing death by dangerous driving, without good reason...you haven't told me everything."

"I have Sam, I've told you everything I can remember. It's just a few witness statements pointing towards me being guilty."

"That doesn't convince me, the witnesses wouldn't lie- they don't know you or Tom, they just saw what happened."

"Seriously Sam," he begged, "you've got to believe me, I wouldn't lie to you hours after you found out Tom was dead, I wouldn't."

"Really Fletch? Because it's a big coincidence that you were seen driving recklessly and yet you can't remember how you crashed or anything about it. You're a liar!"

"I'm not Sam, I'm not. Seeing you when I told you Tom was dead, you were so upset and if I'd lied to you then, my life wouldn't be worth living right now." He reached over and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly so I couldn't let go. I was fuming with him, and looking into his eyes, I couldn't find any honesty behind them, just desperation.

"The police have a reason Fletch, and you know they do, you just won't admit it to anyone or even yourself."

"Listen Sam, I'm a good liar, I know this. I had an affair with Tess, I got her pregnant and she had an abortion and my wife still doesn't know. The potassium mistake was actually Tess' fault and yet I took the blame myself, committing fraud. I can lie, but my god I wouldn't dream of lying to you Sam, especially not then. And I'm not lying now, please believe me."

I sat there stunned, not only by his revelation that he'd been cheating on Nat and almost sabotaged his career, but the how low he had just stooped to tell me this now. Tom had been dead not even 3 days and yet I was expected to listen to his tale about getting Tess pregnant and having an affair. I didn't even get a chance to marry my fiancé and he was telling me how he'd broken his vows. It made me feel sick that he was just trying to guilt trip me into believing him, feeling sorry for him and yet I was nowhere closer to finding any answers or getting closure.

"I can't listen to this anymore Fletch," I snapped, standing up suddenly. He mirrored my actions but in the process stumbled as if dizzy and clutched at his head, wincing outwardly.

"You should have driven more carefully to avoid that headache," I hissed, "see you in court." It was a horrible thing to say and one which I would live to regret but the anger had taken over. I got no reply, and as I turned towards the door there was an almighty crash as if a body had fallen through the table.  
At first I thought he had faked a faint to get my attention, but as I turned back to look at him my heart stopped beating.

"Oh my god!" I heard myself say, and then hysterically called for help, a mass of police officers bursting through the doors, then I really registered what was happening.

He was lying on the floor, convulsing violently and frothing at the mouth, blood pooling around his head where he had bitten his tongue. He was going to die.

**_Think we need the Eastenders doof doof here...gotta love a cliffhanger...I hopefully won't keep you waiting two weeks for the next update now;) _**


	8. Shock Discovery

**Long time no see! I have many excuses, 7 CAs, revising for mocks, rehearsals and family circumstances meaning I've spent a lot of time babysitting my baby brother have not made good time for writing fanfic;) It's only a wee chapter so I'm sorry for that, but I hope you enjoy anyway! (btw, there's a massive a/n at the end of this chapter which you might like to read;))**

_Day 3: 11:35am_

"Bloody hell, are those handcuffs actually necessary? He's not going to go anywhere is he?!" Dixie's loud words of disbelief directed at the police officers, who had ridiculously insisted on handcuffing Fletch to the trolley where he lay were what brought me out of my grief stricken daze. It was when I noticed I was shaking so much that Jeff had an arm round my waist, obviously to try and calm me, that I realised how out of it I must have been the past 10 minutes or so,

As the trolley hurtled from the ambulance into the ED, I mulled over the recent events. After my immediate "heroic" actions of diving in and trying desperately to stem the blood loss, stitching it up as Fletch continued to fit violently, I'd quickly slipped into a state of shock. It was unlike me, I was not easily phased- no soldier, or doctor for that matter, was. I'd managed to immediately save his life but the moment I let Dixie and Jeff take over, it was as if my own brain was fitting. Tears started pouring but I couldn't bring myself to make a sound, all medical knowledge left my brain and I was sure he was going to die.

Glancing up at Jeff for a second confirmed my fears that I'd been in a state, as he met my gaze with a weak smile, eyes filled with sympathy and sadness.  
"Alright princess?" He questioned, and I could only nod as I looked down to the floor quickly, trying desperately to avoid the attention of any member of ED staff. It was the first time I'd been in the ED since the night I found out Tom had died. I was expecting my return to my place of work to be different, to return after Tom's funeral to be treated just as before if not, unfortunately, a little more gently. Little did I know I'd turn up just a few days later with my fiancés alleged killer, and I was just as surprised as my colleagues to be in this situation again.

I'd shocked myself with how quickly my attitude toward swung between anger and concern and horror. It was the moment I'd seen Fletch fitting on the ground that I realised I'd be devastated if he was imprisoned. Why else would I had dived in to try and save his life like I did? As much as I thought I hated him, I loved him- I needed him to help me. Deep down, I knew there had to be some reason behind the crash that the police didn't know.

Zoe's face immediately paled as Dixie wheeled the trolley into resus. She immediately glanced over at me, her eyes full of horror. It seemed as if the whole room slowed and fell silent, until Dixie snapped back into action and began reeling off the details, more calm than I'd seen her all day.  
"Alright Zoe, Adrian Fletcher, 37. Severe seizure lasting approximately 5 minutes, possible head injury from the fall too. Bit through tongue with substantial blood loss which is now stemmed due to some impressive stitching by our Dr Nicholls," Dixie quipped lightly, "GCS of 7, hasn't regained consciousness. Slightly tachy at 105, diastolic BP a bit low, possibly stage 2 hypovolemic shock. Sam seems a bit out of it now too so keep an eye on her, she's had quite a shock."  
I winced at Dixie's mention of my name, mortified at the fact she'd noticed how dazed I was. Zoe nodded hurriedly, continuing to glance between me, the police officers and the chalk-white Fletch.

"Okay guys, we need to move him across," she said suddenly, as more and more people began to crowd round the trolley. Jeff squeezed my arm quickly before leaving me hurriedly with Dixie as they tried to clear some room.

"Right Tess, CVC and arterial line please, Rita do FBCs, U&Es, LFTs, cross match 4 units quickly, we need some blood down here and someone hook him up to some saline...can you move please? And don't even think about going near him with those cuffs, he works here for Gods sake!" Zoe snapped suddenly and I couldn't help smirking at her as she grinned at me quickly.

"We need an urgent CT scan in the next 10 minutes please, and can someone take Sam to the relatives room. Oh, and someone needs to get hold of Fletch's wife too, I doubt the police bothered to do that."

"Zoe I'm fine here!" I protested, finding my voice suddenly.

She simply shook her head, and led me out of the resus doors herself.  
"Are you alright?" She whispered as soon as we were out of earshot. "I'm so sorry I left, I should have come in with you."

"Zoe I'm okay, it was just a bit of a shock. Is he going to be alright?" My voice came out smaller and weaker than I realised and Zoe's eyes softened even more.

"I don't know, he needs to go to CT and I need to pray I didn't miss anything on the last scan. I'll come and get you when we're leaving, go and have a cup of tea."

She finished abruptly and strode back into resus, leaving me stood peering through the glass windows desperately- I then realised I was one of those relatives who I dealt with daily, people experiencing what was probably the worst day of their lives.

It made me appreciate how every single person I met in that ED was probably incredibly out of their natural character. Because I was.

_Day 3: 12:05pm_

"Sam? Zoe said-" Robyn suddenly burst through the doors of the relatives room, making me jump and the hot drink I was cradling to scald my hands, outwardly hissing in pain.  
"Oh my goodness I'm so sorry Sam, are you okay?" she said urgently, interrupting her own spiel.  
"Yeah it's alright," I said a little too brightly, "Zoe said what?"  
"She wants to see you in CT, she said to come quickly."  
I jumped up, following Robyn into CT hurriedly.

I knew it wasn't good the minute I walked into the CT room. Zoe was stood, motionless, staring in horror at the screen in front of her.  
"Zoe?" I said, making her jump, but she simply beckoned me towards the screen and pointed at something on the scan.  
"I missed something Sam, how the hell did I miss this?" she said simply.  
She was was something there, barely visible if you weren't looking carefully, but it was there.  
"Have you checked the old CT?" I whispered, voice wavering.  
"Yeah, it's harder to see on the old one, but it's definitely there."

"Tell me I'm wrong Zoe, that that's not what I think it is..."  
"I can't," she said, tears pouring down her face. "I think it's a brain tumour."

_A/N: Dun dun dunnn...I'm rather fond of cliffhangers ;) the next chapter will be much longer, I promise. I just wanted to assure any of you who care that despite the fact that Tom and Sam are leaving tonight (sad times) I will be continuing this fanfic :) I originally started it when I found out they were leaving, as my hopes for their leaving storylines. Of course, this is looking like it won't be the case and I'm glad they're (hopefully!) getting their happy ending. I'm someone who isn't entirely bothered by their exit, personally although there was more they could have done with Sam, Tom was getting boring and I began to dislike him as a character. I'm excited to see what Charlotte and Ollie do next, and also to meet the new characters joining in January. That winter preview just makes me insanely excited for what feels like another new era of casualty. Anyway, enough rambling from me, if you read all that I'm impressed! Please review if you've got the time :)_


	9. The Journey

**Good evening :) So we have finally made it to the Christmas holidays, thank god for that. I actually managed to stick to my goal of updating every Sunday this week! Not much to say this A/N, just thankyou for continuing to review, its so lovely to hear people are enjoying this! On with the show- little action and more rambles this chapter.**

* * *

_Day 3: 1:15pm_

"I'm such an idiot, oh god."

Zoe's words of disbelief echoing from across the room at the lightbox were what finally cut through the silent, thick atmosphere of tension which had been building in resus. She had been staring at both CT scans, waiting on the neurologist for over an hour now and her silent horror was suffocating me, yet I couldn't think of anything to say myself.

Myself and the police officer, who had ridiculously insisted on staying by his side, had appeared to have formed somewhat of a bizarre bedside vigil for Fletch. The man in question worryingly had remained unconscious since the first seizure, and that was my primary concern at that moment as I tried desperately to stop my brain drifting to other things- tumours, survival rates, the fact I might have to help bury both my fiancé and my best friend in the space of just a week.  
I shook my head to rid me of the thoughts, and the policeman who had sat opposite me furrowed his brow in confusion.  
"Sorry." I whispered, somewhat unapologetically, but he dismissed me with a forced smile and a shake of the head, before returning to his initial position of staring at the floor.

"Zoe, why isn't he awake yet?" I questioned, cheeks flushing before I had even finished the question as I realised what a stupid thing it was to ask. I seemed to forget I was a doctor too, yes I was more junior than Zoe but she was an ED medic like me and her knowledge of the brain was just as good as mine. Zoe sighed before switching off the lightbox for what felt like the hundredth time and crossed the room to join me.

"I think he's in a bit of a comatose state, so his brain can repair itself I suppose. You know how these things work Sam, all questions with no answers." She replied, tilting her head so her eyes met mine. I held her gaze, my eyes suddenly filling with irrational and exhausted tears.

"Hey, no tears okay?", she said softly, crouching down to meet my level. "You look knackered Sam, why don't you go and get some sleep in the on call room?"

I shook my head violently as soon as the words came out of her mouth, but my actions triggered a reaction which confirmed Zoe's claims, when my vision blurred and a wave of nausea washed over me, forcing me to press my hand to my mouth in shock. I clearly looked as ill as I felt as Zoe jumped up, more nimble than I'd ever seen her and shoved a cardboard bowl in front of me as I started retching. My ribs ached as I vomited up what seemed to be just bile, reminding me both how little I'd eaten today and how often I'd really been vomiting, without even myself noticing.

As I finished and the tears I'd been trying to hold back started to roll down my face, Zoe crouched to my level again and rubbed my arm comfortingly. I knew what was coming before she said it, and my head fell into my hands as my fingernails clawed my scalp, as if I could scratch out some excuse for why I seemed to be continuously vomiting whenever I was in Zoe's presence.

"Sam, I really think you should get checked out for this nausea..." Zoe started.  
I looked up at the woman abruptly, frustrated tears continuing to pour down my face.

"I told you before Zoe it's just an anxiety thing, it started in the army and I've had it years."  
I snapped, despite knowing I was lying to myself- but if I could convince myself with my own lies, maybe it would be true. The nausea would pass.

Zoe looked, if possible, even more unconvinced than I felt but for some reason didn't argue, and simply nodded, before standing up gingerly.  
"I'm not cut out for that crouching business, far too old," she quipped lightly, and I couldn't help but smirk.

"Seriously though Sam, you really need to go and have a lie down-"

"No Zoe, I'm not going anywhere until he wakes up," I interrupted, gesturing over to the unconscious form of Fletch who had remained oblivious to the recent bedside drama.

"Listen to me Sam," she moaned, "you've had one of the toughest weeks imaginable, I'm sure you're not sleeping well and you're going to make yourself ill if you carry on this superwoman facade, it's okay to let go a little and think of yourself a bit more. And you know what, I bet Fletch would say the exact same thing."

"Zoe," I sighed, "I know you mean well and I appreciate how much you're doing for me, you've done nothing but be a bit of a rock since- you know-, but please don't fuss. Just being here for me has been enough."

Zoe looked as shocked as I felt at my sudden outpouring of feelings towards her, and she said nothing, just simply reached over to squeeze my hand gently before standing up from the end of Fletchs bed, grabbing the CT scans from the bench and walking over to the resus doors. "I'm going to go and chase up the neurologist, okay?"

I merely nodded, still struggling to form words after my outburst,but she seemed to accept that as a positive response, and I sat listening to the familiar clopping of her ridiculous heels as they echoed down the corridor.

"Oh Fletcher," I sighed exasperatingly, as I climbed onto the bed beside him, ignoring the raised eyebrows of the police officer. "You are such a bugger, what are you doing to my brain? What am I doing to my brain? I don't know, I'm just so, so tired."

* * *

_Day 3: 3:45pm_

It was little of a shock when I was roused from a deep slumber, the beds in resus appeared to be my sleeping place of choice since Tom died. I realised it was the second time I'd slept solidly and dreamlessly for more than an hour since the accident- and the first time had been when I slept in resus just hours after I was told the news. I had no idea why, maybe I subconsciously found it comforting, to be in the room where Tom died- or maybe it was being in the company of Fletch?  
What shocked me more, however, was that I was roused by a squeeze to my hand. I recognised the warm fingers entwined with mine immediately and I nearly jumped out of my skin.  
"Sam?" a voice slurred, almost silently. I winced as I remembered the horrific damage which had been done to his tongue- and then there was the damage no one could see, the damage done by the seizure which surely was causing this devastating slur.

"Yeah it's me," I smiled gently, as I slowly climbed off the bed and into the chair. "Welcome back Fletcher, you had me worried for a minute."

"Wh-what happened?" he croaked, his eyebrows furrowed in obvious confusion at his surroundings.

"You're in hospital, you had a seizure and you bit through your tongue, that's why speaking is a bit tricky now."

"Seizure?"

Of course, I then remembered why he had said seizure, and he was going to want answers. I could only imagine the millions of questions he had no energy to ask at that moment, and I cursed Zoe for not being here when he awoke. It had been over two hours since she left, where was she?

"Yeah, and I stitched you up, but I'm definitely not as good as stitches at you so I do apologise."

"But, why-why did I have s-seizure?" He was struggling to form sentences, something which was concerning me.

"Zoe will be in soon okay, she'll explain." I said, trying desperately to keep my voice steady.

"Its not good Sam."

"No," I whispered, tears pouring down my face yet again, "it's not, I'm so sorry."

The comforting sound of high heels immediately broke through the tense moment and I breathed a massive sigh of relief. It was clear Fletch shared the same thoughts as he seemed to simply sink back into the pillows.

"Sam, I finally saw the bloody neurologist, he was caught up in theatre- oh."

I smiled weakly as Zoe burst through the resus doors haphazardly and then stopped suddenly as her eyeline fell on a now conscious Fletch.

"Oh Fletch-" she managed, "why didn't you come and find me Sam?!"

"He's only been awake a couple of minutes, I didn't want to leave him."

My protests were seemingly ignored as she brandished her pentorch and began shining it into Fletchs eyes. "Do you know where you are Fletch?"

"Resus," he sighed exasperatingly. "Why-why a neurologist?"

"I can't say anything yet Fletch, not until he comes and talks to you. Are you feeling okay, do you want pain relief?"

"My-my head is pounding." Fletch croaked, and Zoe looked over at me in alarm when she heard the full extent of his slurring, to which I nodded knowingly.

"Okay, I'll get that for you, take it easy okay?" she managed, before striding out of resus quicker than normal, obviously worried.

As Fletch turned his head from my direction where it had remained since waking up to the other side, he seemed to jump as he noticed the police officer still sat by his bed and all of the days events came flooding back.

"You-you were there," he croaked, his attention falling back on me, "when I had the fit, you were there. We argued."

"Yeah that's right, don't worry about it Fletch, it's good you can remember where you were last."

"Are you alright? I'm so sorry."

"Shhhh," I soothed, "don't be sorry, I'm just glad I was there."

"But- but why are you here?" he said, voice wavering. "I killed him."

"Because I need you Fletch, no matter what happened that day, I need you."

"You're amazing, you know that? You-you amaze me."

"Why?" I said, tears yet again making tracks down my cheeks.

"How-how you can do that...how-" It was obvious trying to form sentences was a struggle and it was frustrating him massively, so I shushed him and took his hand.

"I'm sorry I ever doubted you Fletch, I'm so sorry."

"I'm dying aren't I?" He croaked suddenly.

"Well I missed that memo, you better not die on me too Fletcher, I'll kill you."

Despite my banter, I couldn't help feeling the same as Fletch- I'd seen the scans but there were so many unanswered questions- was it cancerous, treatable? Could this kill him? I couldn't bear thinking of the thought that I could lose him too, but I had a feeling this was just the beginning to a very long journey which hadn't even started.

It was a journey I was going to be there for until the end, no matter the outcome, I owed it to him and to Tom.

**Thankyou for reading, please review if you've got the time :) & have a lovely Christmas, see you next Sunday! **


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